"I must call him.--Messieurs, messieurs, you fellows who are still on your legs, have the kindness to call my esquire, my page, my varlet--that rascal who is going off with the lanterns yonder, without taking the trouble to see if his master is following him." These words were addressed to three other young gentlemen who had halted a few yards away. Among them was Léodgard de Marvejols, whose features were far from denoting hilarity, and who did not seem, like some of his friends, to have left his reason at the bottom of his glass. The servant, being recalled, came back and placed a lighted lantern on the ground, near the two gentlemen who were already seated on the grass. The others decided to join them; but Léodgard remained a little behind, leaning thoughtfully against a solitary tree. "Do you propose to stay here, my fine fellows?" he asked. "Yes; the fresh air has finished us, we cannot stand on our legs any longer." "It is a fact that the supper was delicious and the wines exquisite. Montrevert did things very handsomely; his _petite maison_ is a delightful place." "Speaking of Montrevert, did he not say that he was coming with us?" "Yes; he said: 'Go on, and I will overtake you.'" "Well, he does not seem to have overtaken us, and we are a good quarter of a league from his house." "That is true, and it is an additional reason why we should rest here and wait for him." "Bah! he won't come; he has probably remained with his infanta. She is a very pretty girl, that Herminie!" "But I tell you, messieurs, that Montrevert will come; he cannot stay at his _petite maison_, for he must be in Paris to-morrow for the king's _lever_. He has hopes of being admitted to the company of Gray Mousquetaires, which his majesty has just organized; it is a bodyguard that is to attend him everywhere, even to the hunt.--Vive Dieu! messieurs, but it is a fine corps! Such a coquettish uniform--red, trimmed with gold. Ah! what conquests those fellows will make with that uniform!" "Look you, I too have some hope of entering this corps of mousquetaires," said the young Marquis de Sénange, trying to straighten up and maintain a sitting posture on the grass. "I too ought to be at the king's _lever_ to-morrow--or rather, this morning. But I think that I shall not be there! I am too dizzy--deuce take it! Youth is the age of folly and pleasure.--Ah! I wish I could find someone who would sit back to back with me; we would support each other.--Monclair, sit behind me." "No; I am very comfortable, I refuse to stir." "What a selfish beast that little Monclair is!--Come, La Valteline, and you, Beausseilly--come and sit down with us." The two young men who were still standing decided to seat themselves on the grass near their companions. But he who was called La Valteline turned toward Léodgard and shouted: